


The Weight of It

by mveloc



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-24 23:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3788470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mveloc/pseuds/mveloc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A response fic to episode 3x01. Exploring Delphine's mindset as she tortures Rachel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Weight of It

**Author's Note:**

> **Author's Note:** This is a response to episode 3x01. Enjoy :)

She stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame as she watches the pitiful creature before her rest uneasily in her hospital bed with dead eyes of her own. Not as dead as Rachel’s, but full of just as much spite. She knows how easily it could have been Cosima in that bed, how it _should_ have been Cosima in that bed if Rachel had gotten her way; she’d destroyed the samples of Kira’s bone marrow that the doctor had fought tooth and nail to get. She’d put everything on the line to save Cosima’s life and Rachel had all too willingly ripped it away with a smug smile before sending her off to Frankfurt. She never thought of herself as a vengeful person, but she can’t contain her own feeling of smugness as she watches. She quickly glances out into the hall behind her, making sure no one else is around to witness or interrupt. When she’s certain that she’s in the clear, she takes a deep breath and steps inside.

 

There’s a distinct chill in the tiny room, the source of which she’s unable to locate. It could quite possibly be the ice queen who lay incapacitated in the bed, or perhaps it’s radiating from her. It’s too early to tell. She leans over the body, prying the remaining eye open with her thumb while flicking a light into it, gauging the response. The pupil dilates and Rachel comes online, gasping softly.

 

“Hello, Rachel.”

 

A wide, panicked eye stares up at her as she meets it with a quiet contempt.

 

“I warned you this was personal,” she adds.

 

The clone blinks rapidly, confused. She opens her mouth to speak, but no words come out. Frowning, Delphine leans in a little closer.

 

“What day is it? Hm?”

 

Rachel tries to find the word, but it comes out fragmented.

 

“What’s my name?”

 

Another slew of half-muttered, garbled words just barely fall from chapped lips.

 

“Come on,” she presses. “What?”

 

“What... happened... to... my... c-corncob?”

 

Rachel reaches for her covered socket and Delphine feels her heart sink in her chest. There’s no time for reluctance, no time to wait for the clone to find the proper words. The seconds are ticking down and everything’s hanging by a thread. She swallows the sinking feeling and pushes onward, stone-faced.

 

“Oh, come on. You can do better than that,” she speaks, leaning in even closer.

 

She brings her thumb to the bandaged side of Rachel’s face, resting it atop the damaged eye socket. She begins to sink her finger down into the gaping hole, quaking with anger and contempt for the shorter girl, but mostly quaking for herself. She presses harder, her scowl becoming more pronounced as she feels the bandage give way under the pressure of her thumb and the girl beneath her whimper. 

 

“What’s my name?”

 

 

 

_Cosima whimpers, squirming beneath her, fingernails digging into her shoulders as the rate of her thrusts increases. She’d been reluctant in her roughness, uncertain if Cosima could handle it in her state of deterioration, but the dreadlocked clone had insisted. It had been a frustrating week of dead ends and more questions rather than answers, a week that had culminated in the two of them colliding as soon as they stepped through the door of Delphine’s apartment. What started out as gentle kisses in the muted light had quickly escalated to clothes being torn from bodies and the two of them collapsing on Delphine’s bed in a fit of lust and passion._

 

_“What’s my name?” the blonde expels, watching as Cosima’s eyes flutter at the demand._

 

_They’re not always so rough with each other, but she’s noticed how well Cosima responds to her when her words grow more forceful. It’s a curious parallel and a touch ironic; the clever young woman is incapable of taking orders outside of the bedroom, but once she’s beneath the slender blonde, all of that bravado and cheeky defiance melts away._

 

_“Come on,” Delphine goads her, thrusting her three fingers as deep as they’ll go._

 

_Cosima releases an ear-splitting moan, throwing her head back as her short nails bite even harder at the European’s shoulders. Her lips silently dance, mouthing words with no follow through._

 

_“What?” Delphine asks._

 

_She nips at Cosima’s ear, curling her fingers deep inside of her girlfriend. Cosima’s lips flutter again, only this time, there’s sound. It’s hardly distinguishable, but Delphine grins at the effort.  
_

_“Oh, come on. You can do better than that,” she purrs._

 

_Her heavily-accented words are like honey in the brunette’s ear, thick and smothering. She can’t bring herself to open her eyes, but the pressure that’s building in her pelvis is quickly growing out of control. She bucks into Delphine, riding her fingers steadily as the blonde’s labored breaths blast in her ear. Delphine drags her thumb over that tiny bundle of nerves, gently grazing at first before pressing more forcefully and circling the nub._

_“Delphine!” Cosima cries out._

 

_French lips find her own, swallowing her bellows. As her entire world is set aflame, the doctor’s tongue coaxes more moans from the back of her throat. She beams at the feel of Cosima clenching tightly around her fingers, a throaty chuckle escaping her own lips as she nips and sucks at Cosima’s lower one._

 

_“There. Good girl,” she praises the brunette, her fingers slowing._

 

_Cosima nods, trying to regain her breath. Delphine peppers kisses to the hollow of her throat, her chest, her breasts, before withdrawing her fingers completely and bringing them to her lips to suck the sweetness off._

 

 

 

“Stop! S-Stop, Delphine!”

 

She smiles, removing her finger from the trauma site. 

 

“There! There we go!” she says with fake praise. “There you go. Good girl.”

 

Rachel stares up at her in terror, her bottom lip trembling. She’s seen that lip tremble before, she’s _made_ that lip tremble before, but she’s never seen that look. She’s seen love and tenderness, even anger and hurt, but never terror. In rattles her in more ways than she can allow, so she finds her new face again and glowers down at the woman.

 

“I’m the new you now, you understand that? I’m you... and I will erase you completely, Rachel, unless you tell me what you’re planning with Ferdinand.”

 

“F-F-Ferdinand?”

 

She nearly chokes on the name, but at least she’s more responsive than she was before.

 

“Yeah,” Delphine replies. “What have you got going on with him? And don’t lie because I saw it.”

 

“Y-Y-You... saw...?”

 

“Come on,” Delphine presses.

 

“Helsinki,” Rachel mumbles, the word a little clearer than the ones before.

 

The revelation strikes her. She narrows her eyes, glaring down at Rachel. This had been her plan all along-- to eliminate the others. To eliminate Alison and Sarah and _Cosima_. She feels rage and disgust, she feels fiercely protective. 

 

“Oh. You _wicked_ sister,” she spits. “You’re not supposed to know about that.”

 

Rachel moves her lips, presumably to speak, but no words follow. If Helsinki is underway, then Sarah is out of time. As good as she is, she can only keep up the charade for so long before Ferdinand exposes her and then it’s over; everything she’s been working for, everything she’s sacrificed will mean nothing.

 

“What else do you know? Hm?” she asks, leaning in.

 

She brings her hand to Rachel’s face again and the clone squirms, whimpering beneath the quaking pressure.

 

“You’re going to talk to me.”

 

 

 

_“Talk to me,” she whispers, nuzzling the brunette’s face. “Tell me where you are.”_

 

_She’s noticed Cosima staring up through the ceiling, her mind far away from where their naked bodies lay intwined with one another amongst messy sheets. Her words draw Cosima back and the turns her head to face the European, offering her the sweetest smile Delphine has ever seen. The doctor pulls her in even closer, completely draping herself over the smaller body. They both release contented sighs._

 

_“Nowhere, really,” Cosima replies._

 

_She links their fingers together, then brings Delphine’s hand to her mouth to press kisses to the back of each digit. The blonde never could have imagined that something so simple would bring her so much joy. Even six months ago, she could never picture herself in the arms of the person she’s fallen for. It wasn’t that she never expected to fall quite so hard or quite so fast, but that she never expected to fall_ **_at all_. **

 

_“Mon amour.”_

 

_Cosima kisses her palm, then brings it forward to cup her cheek._

 

_“I’m here,” she tells Delphine._

 

_“Really?”_

 

_Their lips meet slowly, chastely enough at first but the kiss quickly grows into something sweltering and Cosima is rolling them over, positioning herself on top. Delphine sits up, holding Cosima in her lap while the clone grinds against her, marking her. Her hands tug at dreads, her tongue teases at lips and her chest feels a little more swollen with everything growing beneath it._

 

_One day, she'll be crushed beneath the weight of it._

 

 

 


End file.
